


Stevie Buchanan

by brandywine421



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-18 10:01:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2344367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandywine421/pseuds/brandywine421
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"That's Mrs. Dugan to you, Pup.  You tell your bosses to stay out of my business.  He's not armed or suspicious and you're not getting a pass back into the field with this kind of catch.  Oh, don't give me that look, I know they only put you on 'old folks' patrol because you messed up somewhere but you can just scurry back to your hole now and leave me and mine alone.  Do you understand?"</p>
<p>"Yes, ma'am.  Sorry, kid," the man said.  Steve noticed he did seem to 'scurry' as he turned the corner.</p>
<p>They both watched him go and he finally turned to face her.  "Thank you, but..."</p>
<p>"Yeah, I know who you are, Cap.  A day didn't go by that those boys didn't mention you.  There's no way I wouldn't recognize those baby blues.  Get your ass in here and tell me where the hell you've been."  She didn't leave any room for argument so he shouldered his bag and followed her into the building.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, what if Steve didn't get rediscovered by a top secret government organization?

He scanned the cityscape but his worriy had been warranted.  New York wasn't the same.  It wasn't his home.  This wasn't his world, it wasn't the one he'd died to save and protect.  
  
He was John Carter and this had to be Mars.  
  
Vegas, well, Vegas had been culture shock in every way but he'd navigated his way into travel money and got a lot of practice at being lost in bright and scary places.  But the heat had been worth it after the ice.  
  
He shivered and shook off his thoughts.  
  
It had taken nine months to get this far and wearing long sleeves and a coat in the humid July sun was a sacrifice he was willing to make.  He'd learned how to blend in by looking strange and he needed the clothes.  Chills would make him look much more out of place than his outfit.  
  
He scanned the _Comfort Inn_ stationary for the address again and memorized the subway map, steadying his hands when he pushed in the cash for a metro ticket.  He could do this, learn this.  
  
Steve made a lot of stops when he left Canada after his second Rebirth.  Defrosting from a block of ice was even less fun than stepping out of a vita-ray chamber in a new body.  He still felt the pinpricks under his skin of the ice receding when he tried to sleep and it had been months.  
  
He checked every name off his list, visiting their last known addresses and watching their children and grandchildren when he would find their gravestones.  
  
New York had the two names left he needed to investigate.  He knew Howard Stark was dead but he knew the man had a son and that was something he had to see for himself.  As much as Howard liked women, it was almost more surprising to only find one kid on record, but he had to be something special if Howard had stayed with a single woman long enough to raise him.  
  
The next name was more 'iffy.  Dum Dum Dugan had been one of his closest friends, a godsend after he lost Bucky; and he had been pleased to find a long list of children, grandchildren and beyond attached to his name.  His wife was still alive, in her late eighties but reportedly healthy and active in her community.  
  
He hadn't approached any of the people attached to his list - he knew what year it was - and despite comic and history books about his heroic adventures, everyone he knew in person was dead.  
  
Steve wasn't sure how he was going to handle it when he finally had to deal with the loss of everyone and everything he knew.  Culture shock was pushing him through the looming grief for the moment.  
  
One of the fishermen that actually believed his story had given him a pistol when he was packing to leave.  Told him that if any of it was true that he'd need the single bullet.    
  
He wasn't going out like that, Steve Rogers or Captain America.  It wasn't going to happen, not yet.  He wasn't going to regret selling the gun at a flea market on his way out of Missouri.

Dugan's widow's complex was in Brooklyn but one of the better neighborhoods considering how many drug deals he saw as he walked down the sidewalk with his backpack before he reached the right block.  Even if he changed clothes at the hotel, as an oversized white guy in arctic gear and a stocking cap, he wasn't going to go unnoticed for long.  He felt like he'd tiptoed through a war zone by the time he reached the designated block.  
  
There was a small shaded courtyard as he approached the building and the greenery was well-manicured.  He was glad that she lived in a nice place.  Finding his friends' families healthy and happy was a balm for their loss.  They lived full lives, lives they deserved.  
  
He put down his bag and leaned against the light post for a moment, taking in the solitude.  
  
Until the man in uniform turned the corner with a SHIELD patch that he was coming too familiar with over his internet searches.  
  
"Can I help you find something, sir?" the man asked, puffing himself up with a stern frown.  
  
Steve could take him but it wouldn't be a fair fight.  "Just walking through.  I used to live around here."  It wasn't exactly a lie.  
  
"This is private property, I'll need to see your ID - "  
  
" _Ozzie_!  What the hell do you think you're doing?"  
  
"This man's not on the list - "  
  
"Don't question me, boy," the elderly black woman snapped, her eyes narrowing at the agent.  
  
"But - " The man was in his forties, at least, and he cowered under her glare.  "Ma'am..."  
  
"Mr. Buchanan is my great-granddaughter's new boyfriend and I can do my own threatening."  
  
"He's not on the list, Gertie, we need to do a full background check and - "  
  
She moved swiftly even with her cane and pushed herself to her full height, to the man's chin.  "That's Mrs. Dugan to you, Pup.  You tell your bosses to stay out of my business.  He's not armed or suspicious and you're not getting a pass back into the field with this kind of catch.  Oh, don't give me that look, I know they only put you on 'old folks' patrol because you messed up somewhere but you can just scurry back to your hole now and leave me and mine alone.  Do you understand?"  
  
"Yes, ma'am.  Sorry, kid," the man said.  Steve noticed he did seem to 'scurry' as he turned the corner.  
  
They both watched him go and he finally turned to face her.  "Thank you, but..."  
  
"Yeah, I know who you are, Cap.  A day didn't go by that those boys didn't mention you.  There's no way I wouldn't recognize those baby blues.  Get your ass in here and tell me where the hell you've been."  She didn't leave any room for argument so he shouldered his bag and followed her into the building.  
  
The hardwood floors were only the first sign that this was a fancy place, even nicer than the maintained garden outside would show off.  The woman maneuvered the stairs with ease until she stopped outside of a closed door on the third floor.  "You got a place to stay?"  
  
"I've got some hotels on my phone to check out," Steve replied.  
  
"Nah, you'll take this room where I can keep my eye on you.  If you're a clone or something..."  
  
"I woke up on a fishing boat after they pulled me out of a glacier," Steve replied without thinking.  
  
She tilted her head at him.  "I shouldn't believe you but I've heard stranger things.  You passed the fancy biometrics scan that's installed on the cameras and I scared off Ozzie already so you're coming in and talking it out."  
  
He had to regain control of the situation so he squared his shoulders and cleared his throat.  "Are you Mrs. Dugan?"  
  
"Call me Gertie, Cap.  Now get your ass in the apartment before someone else sees you."

* * *

Steve sat quietly on the frayed sofa while Gertie, Dum Dum's lively widow flitted around the room, making sure he had a bottle of water and a wrapped sandwich before ordering him to take off his shirt.  
  
"Excuse me?"  He tore his eyes away from the faded photograph of himself standing with Dum Dum and Morita.  
  
"I need to make sure you're not a robot," she said, poking him in the center of his forehead.  
  
"Ma'am, I promise I'm not a robot."  
  
She huffed but sat down beside him on the couch.  "You're really him?"  
  
"I think so.  I woke up on a fishing boat.  I still feel like I'm half-frozen.  I've been touring the country trying to find anyone I know that's still alive."  
  
Gertie took his hand with her wrinkled fingers.  "Tim passed on about ten years ago.  Went out with guns blazing, made us all proud."  
  
"How do you believe it's me so easily?" Steve hesitated.  
  
She motioned to the steel door off to the side of the room.  "The boys never gave up on you, swore you'd lived through worse than a plane crash.  Tim's rolling over in his grave, bless him, knowing you got swiped by Canadians.  Bio-scan, fingerprints and preliminary DNA from your bottle over there say you're Captain America."  
  
"Steve.  I'm definitely not Captain America these days," he said, frowning when he realized she'd swiped his bottle.  
  
"Fine, Stevie it is.  I'll call Horace so he can fix up the apartment and we'll let the children know to close ranks until we figure out what we're going to do with you," Gertie decided.  
  
He held up his hand.  "I didn't come here to impose, I just..."  
  
"Oh, stuff it, Stevie.  You're one of mine now," she winked.  
  
It only took a couple of hours for him to realize his life was out of his hands.

* * *

"Granddad talked about you like family, you've been a part of the Dugan history for generations," Eboni said, perching on the elbow of his chair.  Gertie had been nagging at her since she arrived so Steve knew she was one of the woman's favorite grandchildren.  There were a lot of grandchildren considering the overflowing apartment of boisterous guests.  
  
"I just saw him.  Feels like days, months.  But he's been dead ten years," Steve said.  She put her hand on his shoulders.  "I'm still getting used to it.  I'm so glad he finally found the girl for him.  He would find the tiniest excuses to shoot down a dame."  
  
Eboni smiled.  "Sounds like Granddad.  He had really high standards.  Don't know how he settled for Grandma."  Gertie glared at her from across the room and she snickered.  "We won't leave you hanging, Stevie.  You already won over Horace with your gambling talk and every woman in this room is going to start buying you clothes stat and making casseroles..."  
  
"I like casseroles," Steve considered.  
  
"The point is, you're a Dugan now and we're going to bring Stevie Buchanan into the 21st century.  We didn't all follow in Granddad's footsteps but taking care of a big puppy superhero is right up our alley," Eboni grinned.  
  
He didn't like the 'Stevie' part but he didn't mind borrowing Bucky's name for his surname.  He'd been so wrecked when Bucky died that he hadn't considered that the other Commandos would have mourned him, too.  
  
"I want to hear all the stories, it's a fair trade," Steve said.  
  
"They're pulling out the projector for later, Grandma wants to feed you up first," Eboni said.  "And we need measurements, what are you, an XXL in the shoulders and a medium in the waist?"  
  
"My clothes are fine," he said, rolling his eyes and earning a bright smile.  
  
"Maybe for a Canadian," she scoffed.  "Not even hipsters wear flannel anymore, Stevie, and nobody wears parkas."  
  
"I get cold," he replied, brushing crumbs off his puffed sleeve.  
  
"Well, we can make sure at least you look good even when you're layering," Eboni said.  
  
Gertie appeared in front of him and held out a cake.  Not a slice of cake, but an entire cake.  
  
"Thank you, but..." he started.  
  
"No buts, you earned a cake," Gertie frowned.  
  
"I was going to ask for a fork."

* * *

The Dugans went all out for his 'education', and there were a lot of Dugans.  Eboni and her little ones stayed with Gertie most of the week and trained him on daytime and reality TV.  He wasn't sure he liked the new definition of reality and it pushed aside any hope of being better at women than before the war.  
  
Horace, the landlord and possible ex-car thief, taught him about cars and basketball.  Baseball wasn't a 'thing' anymore, everything was basketball.  He was devastated when Steve flattened the ball when he dribbled it too hard in his first and only lesson.  
  
They cut his hair and taught him how not to comb it and how to arrange his hoodie to hide his face but not look suspicious when he rode the subway.  
  
After brushing up on the civil rights movements, he'd hoped racism would be less of a thing, but with his elevated hearing he could tell it was still very much alive.  Marcus, Eboni's boyfriend, had to scold him for glaring at strangers when they went shopping.  
  
God help him, he settled.  He had a safe place to live, a backstory for the Commandos and friends that knew what year he was actually born.  
  
It was more than he could have hoped for after waking up surrounded by smelly fish and fishermen 70 years late.  
  
He could have a life here.  Hell, he already had most of one.  
  
It had been a couple of months before he finally managed to get a meeting with Howard Stark's son, aka, Iron Man.  There were superheroes these days and Stark Jr. had become one simply because he wanted to help - not because of mutant DNA or space radiation.  
  
Tony Stark was definitely a man he needed to meet.  Steve wasn't below asking for a job if he could use his 'gifts' for something other than the Taco Bell dollar menu.

* * *

Steve hoped his shoulders didn't slump when he processed the woman's words.  "Mr. Stark didn't like his father?"  
  
He'd missed too many years.  He'd put too much hope in his friend's son.  
  
"There was a lot of bad blood between them, yes," Ms. Potts replied after a beat.  
  
He held in his sigh.  It was only a dip in his mental flow chart, the checklist had already been marked knowing Howard's son was alive and successful.  He stood up and gave her an apologetic smile.  "Thank you for seeing me, but I think I should go if that's the case."  
  
"Wait, you've been trying to meet with Tony for months.  You aren't old enough to be a friend of Howard's," she said, frowning at him as her eyes flicked across him.  
  
He smiled, suddenly weary.  "I'm older than I look.  I was away a long time but I knew him before he had a wife or a son.  Since his son grew up to be Iron Man, I thought he might understand but if he felt that way about Howard then I don't think he'll feel too kindly about me.  Again, I appreciate you setting this up for me, but I should go."  
  
"If any of that's true, Mr. Buchanan, I'm pretty sure you should stay," she said, her eyes alert now.  
  
Steve was already at the door but nodded his chin toward the clock.  "He's already 20 minutes late and I don't think you really believed he would show.  Plus, I don't want to deal with SHIELD today considering I had to avoid the three agents you have working in the lobby.  It was a longshot but I wanted to try.  Thanks again."

He wasn't going to push his luck and get on SHIELD's real radar if he didn't have to.

* * *

He had the news playing in the background and he noticed the shift in the reporters' voices before he processed their words.  Aliens?  Really?  
  
Steve pulled the cleanest jeans he could find over his boxers and turned off the oven, abandoning the leftovers to look for shirt.  There was a knock on the door that quickly turned into pounding.  
  
Gertie's granddaughter and boyfriend were standing in the hall with panicked expressions.  "Hey, did you see - are you gonna go?" Eboni asked.  
  
Marcus jerked his head to the left.  "We got some gear for you and Horace is loaning you his bike."  
  
"The Harley?" Steve asked.  Horace didn't let anyone drive his Harley.  They blinked at him.  "Yeah, I'm gonna go when I find shoes."  
  
"We've got it, just come on, get your frisbee," Eboni ordered, sounding too much like Gertie to be third generation.  
  
He rolled his eyes but caught sight of an explosion on the TV as he grabbed his shield.  Marcus held his phone tightly, the voice of the live feed giving Steve more information about the flying aliens attacking Manhattan as they took the stairs in a rush.  _Shit_.  
  
Gertie was shuffling around the couch when they dragged him into the apartment.  "About time, Stevie.  Go get kitted out so I can scold you thoroughly before you take the bike."  
  
Carrie, Eboni's youngest daughter held up a jock strap from the guest room doorway.  "Protect your nuggets, Stevie!" she chirped.  
  
He snorted out a laugh and took it from her as he ruffled her fuzzed hair and went to follow instructions.  
  
It wasn't the same as backup, no one would be shadowing him with cover fire or calling out warnings in his ear; but the long-sleeved t-shirt and dark hoodie already laid out with brand new socks and sneakers was comforting.  
  
"Chain mail goes on first, it's a fancy wetsuit but it'll keep knives and sharks from getting you, then the shirt, then the Kevlar and then the hoodie," Gertie barked from the other room.  "Get a move on - they're headed toward that deli I like!"

* * *

Steve pushed the agent out of the line of fire and took out the alien with a flick of his painted shield.  He turned to the man and frowned.  "Your auntie's going to kill you," he told Antoine.  
  
"Stevie?  Shit, I didn't believe it but - are those the new Jordans?" Antoine replied before raising his eyes from his feet.  "Never mind - we could use you three blocks up; our guys are busy at the tower with the nutjob."  
  
Steve nodded.  "Yeah, you should call me with updates, I have my Bluetooth in and your family's watching the news for me.  You should probably show up to Sunday dinner, too, because Gertie's..."  
  
"Going to kill me, shit.  And I didn't see you, yeah?" Antoine scanned him again, hesitating on the sneakers.  
  
"Thanks, and call me, I could use your Intel."  He hurried out of the alcove broke into a run into the closest alley.

* * *

Steve caught a glimpse of red across the street and half of the oncoming flood of what Antoine called _Chitauri_ turned with weapons ready.  He had seen news footage of Spiderman but he didn't believe he was a bad guy.  He'd saved people from the neighborhood and was a legend around Steve's new circles.  He let his shield fly and took out the closest armed creatures and kept the guy from being slammed with the first shots as he swung through the crowd.  Steve caught his shield as the man webbed several of the aliens into submission.  
  
The two of them cleared the street efficiently and after a few moments of frantic hand-to-hand warfare, Steve leaned back against a blasted Toyota to catch his breath.  Spiderman dropped down beside him.  He recognized him even with the mask with his supersensitive nose.  "You go to school with Raymond."  
  
Spiderman jerked.  "What?  How the hell..."  
  
There was an explosion in the distance.  "Doesn't matter, mind helping me out over at the Pavilion?  Channel 14 says they took out a convoy of cops."  
  
Spiderman tilted his head.  "Are you one of those SHIELD assholes?"  
  
Steve shook his head.  "No, I'm trying to keep off their radar and I figure I could use some backup that won't try and arrest me if we live through this.  I'll watch your six if you watch mine."  
  
He hesitated but there was another explosion.  "All right," Spiderman said.  "I can handle that."  
  
"Play air support, you knock down as many as you can and I'll take it from there."  Steve snapped his fingers when the memory clicked on.  "I do know you - shit, we're going to talk about your aunt after this, kid."  He played bridge with May Parker every Tuesday.  "Please tell me she doesn't know."  
  
Peter pulled his mask off.  "Who the hell - _Stevie_?"  
  
The next explosion was closer and he shook off his thoughts.  "Lecture later, put your mask back on and let's go."

* * *

Eventually the portal closed in the distance and the aliens collectively slumped to the ground.  Peter joined him as he found a seat on the curb, exhausted.  
  
"I'm out of shape," Steve sighed, still out of breath.  
  
Peter snorted.  "No, that just took a while.  Do you know what happened out there?"  
  
Steve pulled his hood back and tugged out his Bluetooth, scratching at his irritated ear.  "My battery ran dead.  But I made sure Raymond went by your aunt's house to make sure she was tucked down.  I'm starving."  
  
Peter chuckled under his breath and patted him on the back.  "I'm glad you were around, Stevie."  
  
"I bet we can find a restaurant open on the way home," Steve said.  He stripped out of the hoodie, turned it inside out before passing it to Peter.  He looked less suspicious in the Kevlar and Peter wouldn't catch as much attention in an oversized hoodie even if he was still wearing tights.  "You're still in trouble," he added, smirking at his rolled eyes and offering him a hand to his feet.  "Can I use your phone to call my friends to let them know it's over?"  
  
"As long as you're not telling Aunt May, sure," Peter shrugged.  
  
He dialed Marcus and smiled at his gruff answer.  "Hey, it's Steve.  My battery went out."  
  
 _"Dummy.  Auntie's freaking out, where are you?"_  
  
"They closed the portal, it's all clear.  I found a wayward kid and I'm going to drive him home but I'll be back in a few hours."  
  
 _"The news got a few shots of you hanging out with Spiderman, so keep your head down.  Oh, and get an autograph."_  
  
"Tell Gertie not to worry," Steve said.  He caught sight of a group of SHIELD agents down the street and patted Peter on the back to alert him.  "Got to go."  
  
An SUV skidded to a stop in front of them and the door swung open.  Antoine motioned for them to get in, revving the engine.  
  
"He's a friendly," Steve told Peter and manhandled him into the truck.  
  
"Bosses want you bad," Antoine said, shifting into gear.  "Where's your exit?  Do I know him?"  
  
"No, you don't and I've got Horace's bike in the garage on 31st.  What's the story?" Steve asked, grateful that Peter relaxed a notch and didn't bolt when he looked so close to falling asleep.  
  
Antoine gave him a double take.  "Horace let you drive the Harley?  You really are a crazy mother - "  
  
"Shut your mouth," Steve scolded.  
  
He laughed.  "Okay, so you don't tell Auntie that I'm working for SHIELD and I won't ask your friend for ID.  Can we agree to those terms?"  
  
Steve frowned but Peter spoke first.  "Are you going to turn us in?"  
  
"Hell no, Auntie would kick my ass if I messed with Stevie," Antoine snorted.  
  
"Fine, now fill me in," Steve sighed, running his fingers over the edge of the shield.  "I'm starving and we need to get going."  
  
"It's a really long story and shit's still hitting the fan.  You're on the radar and I agree you need to get going so I'll meet you at your place later when I have actual information.  I'm still a probie on the strike teams," Antoine said.  "The gist is - they closed the portal, deactivated the foot soldiers and captured the megalomaniac that started this mess."  
  
His stomach growled and Peter snickered.  
  
"I want the long story when you come by tonight.  I think I want tacos."

"You always want tacos," Peter muttered.

Tacos were delicious.


	2. Chapter 2

He waited a full week following the 'Battle of New York' before he left the apartment building in daylight.  He knew that he'd have to move on soon or get caught.  There were too many people that knew his identity.  The beard and cap wouldn't work for long.  
  
He was lucky to have found Gertie and was grateful for the inadvertent circle of protection but he wouldn't put them in danger.  He had restocked his escape kit before he collapsed in a sleep coma after the battle.  
  
He knew the kids at the corner deli and one of them gave him a crooked salute and motioned for him to sit.  They knew what he liked.  
  
Steve would miss this place.  It was the first time since he shipped out in his first life that he felt like he had a home.  
  
The waitress brought him a bottle of soda and it distracted him from the stranger slipping into the booth across from him.  He really was out of practice.  
  
"Hi.  You're a difficult man to track down, _Captain_."  The man had messy brown hair and a kind smile.  His shoulders were slumped to make him more non-threatening but Steve was on his guard.  
  
"Have we met?" Steve replied warily.  
  
The man shook his head.  "Nah, not officially.  We both fought in that thing last week, though.  I'm a friend of Tony's."  
  
Steve scanned him.  "You don't have the arms of the archer of the curves of that spy.  Green giant?"  
  
He snorted.  "I'll take it."  
  
"Dr. Banner.  How can I help you?" Steve sorted through his mental Rolodex of Wikipedia.  
  
"You know who I am?"  
  
Steve shrugged.  "I figured out the internet a couple of days after I woke up.  How'd you find me?"  
  
"Tony saw you when he was flying the perimeter during the fight.  You held the southeast corner so we could focus on the main event.  Your shield's black, but he knows who you are.  He said you came to see him once," Banner said.  
  
Steve nodded.  "I knew his father."  
  
"Where have you been the past 70 years?" Banner asked in a low voice.  
  
"That's a long story.  Aren't you allied with SHIELD now?" Steve asked.  He wasn't getting involved with SHIELD considering Triplett's vague outlines of shady ops.  
  
Banner's face wrinkled in distaste.  "No.  Did you know they tried to nuke the portal?  If Tony…"  
  
Steve blanched.  "I didn't know that."  
  
The man nodded solemnly.  "It was touch and go for a while.  I don't trust SHIELD, but after last week, I trust Stark.  He'd like to meet you.  He's a little noticeable or he would have come himself."  
  
The waitress brought out his massive tray of food and smiled, patting the top of his head over the stocking cap.  "We like the beard, Stevie."  
  
Banner smiled, amused as she left.  "You seem to have a decent support system for a guy that's been missing for decades.  Have you been under the radar all these years?"  
  
Steve decided to take a chance.  If he was going to have to make a run for it anyway, he didn't have much to lose.  "I don't know much about global warming and all that, but a few months ago some guys on a fishing boat pulled me out of the water, the ice.  It took a while to get back to port so I caught up on the gist of being 70 years behind the times before we made landfall.  I only made it back to the states about six months after.  All my friends…hell, they died years ago."  
  
"Shit.  You survived that long in the ice?" Bruce whispered.  
  
He nodded, shuddering involuntarily at the thought of the cold even with his layers.  "Apparently.  I got lucky here.  But if SHIELD's on my tail, I have to protect the people that took me in."  
  
"I get that.  But don't run before you talk to Tony.  He almost died protecting the city from the people that were supposed to save it."  
  
Steve offered him a sandwich but Bruce turned him down.  He slid the fries closer and started picking at them.  "I need some ground rules, though."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"We can't talk about his father," Steve said.  
  
"Ah.  That's definitely a touchy subject.  He seems to think his dad was in love with you," Bruce said.  
  
Huh.  
  
Bruce's eyes widened.  "Oh, wow."  
  
"It wasn't reciprocated," he mumbled.  "Why would he think that?"  
  
"He looked for you up until the day he died.  Tony cut funding for the search a couple of years ago and he's going to regret it when he finds out you really were in the ice up there.  So it's true?"  
  
Steve felt like he'd been punched in the gut.  Howard had been full of bluster and flirting and Steve had been cursed with blushing and infatuation.  "It wasn't anything, he wasn't into men.  He was really nice about it, back then he could have had me arrested for liking him, you know?  I didn't know anyone looked for me."  
  
"That's one of his issues with Howard, I think.  I mean, he missed all of Tony's graduations because he was on a submarine searching for you."  Bruce held up a finger.  "Not that any of that is your fault, but the point is the Howard _you_ knew was not the Howard _he_ knew."  
  
"I'd like to meet him, but I think we should still…"  
  
"I'll make sure he knows it's off limits.  And I won't tell him, you know, the rest," Bruce said.  
  
Steve skimmed his gaze over him again.  "You were working on the serum when you got…changed.  It might be nice to compare notes with someone that's not looking to cut me open."  
  
Banner's eyes lit up.  "You don't even know me."  
  
"You could probably sell samples of your blood to the highest bidder but all signs point to you hiding out like me.  Even in the war, there was no one to ask about the effects.  I'm not saying I want you to experiment on me or take my blood, but I'd love to pick your brain," Steve admitted.  
  
Bruce wiped his greasy hand on his slacks and offered his hand to shake.  "As long as I get to pick your brain in return.  Tony's giving me a lab in his tower so I'll be in town for a while.  Without sounding like a creepy mad scientist, I'd really like to check you over.  Especially if you survived being frozen for that length of time."  
  
Steve's stomach growled because he was barely done with his first sandwich and Bruce glanced at him, curious.  "I'm always hungry," he muttered, flushing.  "I mean, I had to eat more after I got the serum, but since I woke up - I'm always starving."  
  
Bruce's fingers twitched.  "Yeah, you should eat up and then come back with me.  Unless you're busy."  
  
"I was going to the community center to volunteer, but I'm not on duty today," Steve replied.  Bruce gave him a genuine smile.  


* * *

"Oh boy, Captain America's gone dark," Tony Stark smirked in greeting.  
  
Steve stroked his fingers over his chin.  He liked his beard. "I'm undercover as a 'hipster'."  
  
"Well, you are living in Brooklyn," Tony chuckled, holding out his hand for a firm shake.  Steve recognized Howard's spark behind the steel in his eyes.  "Saw your moves last week, can't fault my dad's work."  
  
"Tony," Bruce hissed.  
  
"I know, Doc, you don't want me to scare him off before you go through your checklist - and he totally has a checklist, don't let that baby face fool you," Tony said, pointing at Bruce.  "But if we clear the air now, we won't have a blow up later.  I am capable of personal growth no matter what Pepper says about me."  
  
Steve blinked at him.  "Why would Pepper say that?"  
  
"My ex, it's recent, who brought her up?  We aren't allowed to talk about her, it's a rule," Tony replied, his eyes darting around the room.  Huh.  
  
Bruce gave Steve an apologetic look.  "I'm sorry about him, I don't think he's slept since she left."  
  
"This totally isn't about my ex, it's about his ex, aka my father," Tony said.  
  
Steve held up his hand and the room went quiet.  "Howard was my friend, there was nothing romantic between us.  Even if I wanted there to be, he wasn't into men like that.  He offered to introduce me to 'manly dames' the one and only time I had the guts to bring it up so, he didn't really 'get' how it worked.  It's not about the equipment, it's about the person."  He hesitated.  "He kept my secret, and from the books and articles I've read about me - he kept it for me after I was gone.  He was my friend but he wasn't my 'boyfriend'.  Peggy...she was my one.  If I got to have one, it would always be Peggy.  It was nine months ago.  I crashed a plane nine months ago."  He took a deep breath and raised his eyes to meet Tony's visibly shocked gaze.  "Does that clear the fucking air for you?"  
  
Bruce stepped between them.  "This would be the point where I would be turning green and smashing your face in, Tony, so why don't you step out and sleep?  At least three hours before you attempt any more personal growth."  
  
Tony sucked in a breath but his eyes seemed to clear and he closed his mouth for a moment.  "Yeah.  Yeah.  I need to make a new checklist now that Captain Grumpy crossed off all my questions.  Don't leave until I'm finished rebooting, I have current events to discuss with you."  He sauntered out of the room with a weary sway.  
  
"I'm sorry, if you want to leave..." Bruce started.  
  
Steve steadied himself.  "It's okay.  I took his bait, I'll be ready next time.  Now, what's this about a checklist?"  He had pushed away his crushing thoughts of loss this long, and he could do it again.  
  
"Why do you trust me?  I mean, I know you said you studied up but - "  
  
"The scientists that made me only had a couple of weeks to study me before I was sent out on the USO tour.  I think Peggy, and Howard, pulled a lot of strings after they saw some of the tests.  And it wasn't like they showed me the results, I was just their labrat.  You're a genius and you're the only person around not tied to the government that knows how the serum works and I'd like to know what I am now," Steve said.  
  
"You're Stevie, that's what matters.  The serum, the one that brings out the Hulk; I'm not Bruce when he's around.  You're always Steve Rogers.  I have a lot of the original test results you can look over while I set up the biometrics scanner.  No poking or uncomfortable stripping..."  
  
"That's what she said," Steve said absently.  
  
Bruce barked out a laugh and clapped him on the back.  "You're nothing like I expected."  
  
"I'm going to consider that a compliment," Steve replied.  


* * *

Steve stayed longer than he planned - long enough to call Gertie to check in - when Tony walked into the common area on Bruce's private floor.  
  
"Stevie's addicted to junk food," Bruce said in greeting.  
  
"Everything's junk food according to you.  Have you tried those Doritos tacos?" Steve scoffed.  
  
Tony's eyes weren't wild like they were earlier, but bright with curiosity.  "Was that question on your checklist?"  
  
Bruce laughed.  "It was after his results came back."  
  
"All right, so, personal growth.  I apologize for ambushing you with Daddy issues.  Shit, I've apologized more the past two weeks than I ever have in my life," Tony added under his breath.  "I really want to know where the fuck you've been."  
  
"Ice," Steve replied, shivering at the word.  
  
"His body went into cryostasis," Bruce picked up.  "Global warming floated him up near the Canadian coast.  That plane crashed closer to the states than your father calculated, the search area would have been way off."  
  
"The controls were jammed and I smashed them a little," Steve said.  "Your British computer says I changed the course to go Northwest before the navigation went out."  
  
Tony sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face.  "Fuck.  Dad always said...shit."  
  
"It means a lot to me that anyone looked for me at all," Steve replied.  
  
Bruce changed the subject, thankfully.  "The cryostasis gave his body time to heal, even improve in some areas but he hasn't adjusted to reanimation fully yet."  
  
"What did you do after the ice, I mean, did you just wash up on the beach with the walruses?" Tony asked, taking a seat beside Bruce to open the still calculating statistics on a holographic screen.  He'd seen a lot of tech but Bruce and Tony's place was unbelievable.  
  
"Fisherman scooped me out.  They thought I was crazy, but one of them had a psychiatrist sister and for all I knew, I was crazy.  I took advantage of their pity and learned as much as I could.  A couple of the older guys at the docks figured it out and helped me get fake credentials, for the US and Canada," Steve said.  "As soon as I managed to study up enough to fit in quietly, I Googled everyone I could think of and hit the road."  
  
"How'd you get money?" Tony asked.  "I mean, you showed up here but that was recently."  
  
"Vegas.  I love Vegas," Steve replied with a fond smile.  He _loved_ Vegas.  "I head to Atlantic City for funds now, but it's nothing like Vegas.  I bought the fishermen a couple of new boats to thank them."  
  
"Of course you did," Bruce chuckled.  
  
"I wasn't planning on settling anywhere this soon, there's still a lot I need to learn; but I met up with one of the Commandos' widows and her family's been really good to me.  She trusted the SSR, Howard and Peggy; but she doesn't trust SHIELD.  I'm probably going to have to leave town now that I'm on their radar."  
  
"Nope," Tony said cheerily.  "I'm setting you up here, you're going to be my new security guy.  I want you under my umbrella, not SHIELD's."  
  
Steve didn't know how he was supposed to react to that.  "We barely know each other."  
  
"We'll have time for that later, Pops.  See, I only met Bruce last week but I can see he's already shifting into full research mode and I'm not taking the chance of SHIELD getting their hands on you until I'm done decrypting the rest of the Intel I got when we were on the helicarrier."  
  
"The what?" Steve asked.  
  
"There are a lot of things you need to know that you won't find out squatting in Brooklyn," Tony replied, leaning in close to read the holoscreen.  "Jesus, is that his brain function?"  
  
Bruce nodded.  "We're going to have to do an updated IQ test."  
  
"What did you mean about my body adjusting to reanimation?" Steve asked, unsettled at the two men's giddy expressions.  
  
"It's why you're always hungry, your metabolism's still in hyperdrive from the cryo," Bruce explained.  "You know you're out of the ice, but your body's adjusted to expect it now.  You spent more time frozen than active and the serum, well, it thinks that's your natural state."  
  
"So my body thinks I'm going to hibernate again?"  _Shit_.  
  
Tony waved him off.  "We'll fix it, you're on our turf now."  
  
He raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Science, that's our gig, you just sit there and look pretty.  There's a delivery sheet in the kitchen - order whatever you want while we do math," Tony said, distracted by the scrolling numbers.  
  
"I have to help a couple of friends later, they're moving into a new apartment and I'm on the hook for hauling boxes," Steve said.  He didn't need to be here for math.  
  
"I'll hire people for that," Tony replied without looking up.  Bruce snorted.  
  
"Gertie would kill me if I didn't vet the block while I was there," Steve muttered.  
  
Tony's face snapped up.  "Gertie?  Shit, she's still kicking around?  Yeah, you better go, you don't want to piss that lady off."  
  
"How do you know Gertie?" Steve asked, surprised.  
  
"Who's Gertie?" Bruce asked over him.  
  
"Some of the Commandos used to go on the searches with Dad.  She would come by when Dugan went on his trips, Mom hated her.  I mean, Mom wasn't a racist, but she wasn't a fan of interracial marriages at first," Tony replied.  "I don't think she knew my name, she just called me 'Brat'.  Which wasn't a lie," he shrugged.  
  
Steve smiled.  "She calls Torrie 'Brat', too.  I don't think she means it in a bad way."  
  
"I know, she was one of the few of my parents' friends that spent much time with me; but she was also one of the few that would discipline me.  She put me in time-out once and I designed three robots while she argued with my Mom about it in the other room.  She's fierce.  You'll have to bring her by when you move in," Tony said.  
  
He rolled his eyes and Bruce snickered.  
  
"Tell her Rhodey vouches for me, she'll know what you mean," Tony added.    


* * *

"Ah, James Rhodes, now that's a fine looking man," Gertie clucked despite Eboni's scolding laugh.  
  
"I don't know, bro, if Stark offered me a place in that fancy tower, I'd take it without a second thought," Marcus said.  
  
"Stark's had no love for the military since he got that thing in his chest, but if he's still close with Rhodes then I think he's on the level," Gertie said.  "You've got good instincts when you're not brooding, you just need to use them more."  
  
Steve snorted.  "All I know for sure is that I can't stay here.  If SHIELD's looking for me as hardcore as Antoine says then it's going to get hot fast.  Especially when they figure out my history."  
  
"We can deal with it, Stevie, they won't mess with Auntie," Eboni said.  
  
He sighed.  "But you guys shouldn't have to.  It's my mess and I'll deal with it."  
  
"This country made the mess, not you.  You have a gift but they'd turn it into a curse if they have their way.  If Stark wants to help you, and if you trust them, then they'd be the lesser of the other evils," Gertie nodded.  "Rhodey served with three of my grandsons.  Taught Chuck how to fly himself.  He's a good man and he wouldn't throw in with Stark if he wasn't a good man, too."  
  
"I'll talk to him.  Bruce took some scans, gave me some assignments.  He says I have to stop eating so much junk food," Steve frowned.  Marcus tilted the bag of cheesy puffs and he took a generous handful.  
  
"I don't trust that one, how do you know he's not going to steal your blood to make more green monsters?" Gertie asked.  
  
Steve chewed his food before he answered.  "He's a scientist, he didn't want to be the Hulk.  He was focused on the healing properties, not the supersoldier aspect.  He took the job because it was the only way he could get on the project.  He didn't get a gift, he started with a curse.  He knows a lot and trusts the government less than you do," he added, pointing a cheese puff at her.  
  
She huffed.  
  
"I'm trusting my instincts."  
  
She waved her withered hand at him.  "What kind of assignments did he give you?"  
  
Steve reached down for the thick textbooks and dropped them on the table with a thud.  "Physics, genetics, biotech - which I'm not completely sure is a real thing - and other really hard stuff.  He says my brain function is elevated and he wants to see if I can learn as fast as he thinks I can.  Tony gave me the full library of the Rosetta Stone programs and says I should listen while I read.  I was going to copy the Spanish ones for Jacob and Angie so maybe they can get high enough grades to do the study abroad program next semester," he said.  
  
"Awesome, can you copy the French one for me?" Eboni asked.  
  
"I'm still not getting on a plane, Eboni, no matter how much you want that trip to Paris," Marcus grumbled.  


* * *

"Everyone keeps whistling the Jefferson's theme song when I walk by," Steve groaned when he slid into the booth across from Antoine.  
  
He laughed.  "Yeah, well, you're definitely going to be out of your element once you're living in that Tower."  
  
"I haven't agreed yet, I'm supposed to go over tomorrow for breakfast," Steve replied.  He didn't recognize the guy with him but his steely gaze made him wish he'd kept his mouth shut.  "Who's your friend?"  
  
"Oh yeah, this is Clint.  He got fired today, I'm getting him drunk.  He's ex-SHIELD but he's on the level," Antoine replied.  
  
Steve scanned the guy appraisingly.  "You're the archer."  
  
"And you're the vigilante SHIELD can't find," Clint replied after a beat.  
  
"Vigilante?  What are you letting them do to my rep?" Steve asked Antoine, motioning to the familiar waiter.  The man's face lit up at the thought of his tip and hurried to the bar.  
  
Antoine snorted.  "That's all on you for letting Eboni and Marcus deck you out like a gangsta."  
  
"You're a wild card in their books, anyone that's not in their database is dangerous," Clint said.  "Who are you?  How do you know Triplett?"  
  
"He knows Auntie.  Look past the beard and think about it," Antoine said.  
  
"I didn't look like a gangster," Steve said.  He was wearing a hoodie and loose jeans with a stocking cap to hide his uncombed hair.  And he really liked the new century's sneakers.  
  
Antoine snickered.  "Gangsta not gangster."  
  
Clint's eyes widened.  "Shut up.  Your auntie was Dugan's wife, shut the fuck up.  You lucked out finding her, where the hell have you been?"  
  
"Frozen.  Why'd you get fired?" Steve asked to hide his shiver.  The waiter set down the unholy Scotch that cost more than a week of minimum wage and clean glasses.  "Thanks, man, you can open a tab."  He turned his full attention back to Clint.  
  
"It's complicated," Clint replied.  
  
"He didn't deserve to get fired, what happened wasn't his fault.  He needs a pep talk," Antoine said.  
  
"How can you afford this?" Clint asked, ignoring him and examining the bottle.  
  
Steve raised an eyebrow at Antoine.  "Vegas.  You know my story, only fair you tell me yours."  
  
Clint snorted.  "I don't know your story and if you're the guy I think you are, then you won't want to know mine."  
  
"Try me," Steve replied.  He was curious now and Antoine looked genuinely worried.  "I know you did good work last week, some of those shots you made were impossible.  You saved people."  
  
"I killed people," Clint murmured.  
  
Steve cracked the seal on the bottle and poured a splash of scotch into each of the glasses as Antoine protested.  "That wasn't you - that asshole was in your head."  
  
"It was my finger on the string, my eye sighting the marks," Clint hissed.  
  
Steve held up his hand.  "Drink first."  
  
Antoine held his nose before he took a sip but Clint downed it like a shot.  
  
"I heard about you from Bruce and Tony.  They said they couldn't have won without you and the redhead. I think Tony's exact wording was 'mindfucked'.  The glowy spear thing, right?" Steve asked.  
  
Clint didn't meet his eyes.  
  
"Were you conscious behind the veil?" Steve asked, making sure not to stare when the man's face snapped to attention.  "Bruce said Dr. Selvig was having a helluva time."  
  
"Shit.  I...was trapped.  It was like watching a movie.  I killed people I knew, friends..."  
  
"I think I agree with Antoine on this one, it wasn't your fault," Steve said.  "You won't believe that for a long time, though.  We all carry sins that we can't let go of."  He turned to his friend.  "Any reason you didn't tell me that SHIELD tried to nuke the city?"  
  
Antoine coughed into his glass.  
  
"He's too low on the totem pole for Intel like that.  Bastards," Clint muttered.  "We had it under control."  
  
Steve poured himself a brimming glass and appreciated the burn.  He didn't want to hibernate.  


* * *

"Katniss, haven't seen you perched around lately, how's the noggin?" Tony asked from his sprawl across the couch where Steve had left him the night before in the same clothes.  
  
Clint relaxed a tick.  "Fired."  
  
Tony winced.  "Ouch.  I didn't know you knew our feathered friend," he said to Steve.  
  
"Friend of a friend, on two sides it seems," Steve replied.  "Where's Bruce?"  
  
"Drooling on his notes in the lab.  I'm supposed to take your temperature," Tony beamed, brandishing a thermometer he recognized from nightmares of the orphanage.  
  
"No way," Steve said, holding both hands up in preparation to rumble.  "I was promised breakfast and negotiations for room and board, no tests today."  
  
"He finished your homework before I passed out this morning.  Did you turn him on to the rich stuff?"  
  
Tony raised his eyebrow curiously, twirling the thermometer.  "Do tell."  
  
Steve crossed his arms.  "There's nothing wrong with my whiskey."  
  
"It cost 600 dollars!  The manager nearly creamed herself when she rang up your tab," Clint snorted.  
  
"I refuse to let you judge my discerning tastes," Steve said.  
  
Tony laughed.  "Damn, Cap, we really are going to be besties at this rate.  You love Vegas, I love Vegas, you love liquor and I love liquor - "  
  
"I love Vegas, too, and I am definitely not judging your tastes if I'm not paying the tab.  You love Vegas?  When did you go to Vegas?  I want to go to Vegas." Clint said, feigning a pout.  
  
"I can have a jet here in twenty," Tony said seriously.  
  
"Nobody's going to Vegas," Bruce announced, plucking the thermometer from Tony's fingers and swiftly pushing a different tool into his ear.  He yanked it away before Steve could grab it and it beeped.  "Your body temperature's still low, is that why you're wearing layers?  Did you weigh yourself before and after your run like I asked?"  
  
"Barton said he finished the homework," Tony said unhelpfully.  Clint laughed but at least he didn't chime in with any more personal intel.  
  
"I don't think I want to be friends with you anymore."  
  
"I have a bottle of scotch from 1939 in my wine cellar," Tony said.  
  
Steve closed his mouth.  "Fine.  Yes, I took notes and finished your homework."  
  
Bruce smiled and patted him on the head.  "Good boy.  Give it to me so JARVIS can run the numbers and I'll leave you alone until after breakfast."  
  
He picked up his bulging backpack and passed him the books and tablet with his data and as an afterthought pulled out the shield.  Tony's eyes lit up.  "Oh, pretty please, can I see it?"  
  
Steve flipped it in his hand, appreciating the thrum of the metal under his touch.  "This is the only thing I have from my life before the ice.  It's hard to break, haven't been able to put a dent in it yet, but it's...mine.  Make sense?"  
  
Tony hesitated but Steve extended his hand and held the shield out to him.  "I can't find good paint, it was chipped all to hell with the Chitauri."  
  
"We could've used you in the main battle, but since you're moving in, you'll be here for the next one," Tony said absently before tearing his eyes away from the shield in his hands to Clint.  "Barton, I fixed Cap's suite up when I figured out who he was a few days ago but you weren't on the roster.  You'll have to crash in his guest room until the construction's finished on the other floors."  
  
"You're just letting me move in?" Clint asked.  
  
Tony smoothed his fingers over the shield and hummed.  "Yeah.  I don't trust SHIELD but right now, I trust you.  You know what SHIELD would do if they knew Rogers..."  
  
"I know.  It's good you're getting him off the streets.  Ordering 600 dollar bottles of whiskey on a Tuesday, he fails at undercover," Clint smirked.  
  
Steve rolled his eyes.  "I still don't get how moving into your big ugly tower is going to make me less noticeable."  
  
"When the next alien invasion goes down, Cap, I'd rather have you watching my back than SHIELD," Tony said.  "Can I - "  
  
"Go, but you promised me breakfast!" Steve called after the man as he scrambled out of the room with the shield barking orders at his computer butler as he left.  
  
"We worked together against the aliens but we were running SHIELD's plays.  I don't think any of us are going to be comfortable with that next time.  It's kind of great that you showed up right now, don't you think?"  


* * *

"Oh, you should have seen him wandering around Brooklyn like he was a lumberjack, those Canadians got him good," Gertie chuckled from her seat on the overly expensive couch in his new Tower apartment.  
  
Tony may have talked a big game about being scared of Gertie, but they had been chatting like old friends since she arrived with Eboni, Marcus and Antoine to vet his new place.  Eboni and Pepper disappeared immediately to go through his closets and Marcus, Clint and Antoine were talking about basketball.  He wasn't sure he trusted his new and other new friends together.  
  
Gertie waved him over and he sank into the plush cushion beside him.  "I hate it when my chicks leave the nest, but Stark's promised to take care of you."  
  
"I don't need a sitter," Steve said fondly.  
  
"We're working on getting him back to 100 percent," Tony said and Steve shook his head quickly until Gertie narrowed her eyes at him.  
  
"What's that mean?" she snapped.  
  
"He didn't tell you?  Stevie's sneaky," Tony grinned.  "Guy's not as healthy as he should be.  We're going to keep the temperature higher on this floor and monitor his caloric intake so he'll gain back all his weight."  
  
Gertie swatted at him.  "I knew you were too skinny!"  
  
"Bruce and Tony have been running comparisons to my original results.  They say my body's still readjusting and that's why I'm always cold," Steve said.  
  
"We're not experimenting on him.  We're trying to help," Tony said when Gertie turned her glare on him.  
  
"They've got the brains to figure out how I survived seventy odd years underwater," Steve said, squeezing her hand to quiet her building lecture.  
  
She sighed.  "Fair enough.  You can play with the nerds as long as you keep your wits about you.  But Sunday dinner is non-negotiable."  
  
He kissed her cheek.  "I'll be checking in more regularly than that, Gertie."  


* * *

"You fail at everything related to undercover," Clint muttered as he followed Steve out of the limo at the casino's front entrance.  
  
Tony snickered.  "He's right, I mean, I don't need to be in disguise if this is how you roll."  
  
"Stevie Buchanan doesn't hang out with Tony Stark.  I'm just a kid from Brooklyn.  Allegedly, I won the lottery and like to play the tables," Steve said, checking his beard in the tinted window.    
  
"I tell people he owns a record label," Marcus confided.  "He's like Paul Bunyan around here, everybody's got a story."  
  
Angelia met them at the door with a bright smile.  "Stevie Buchanan, it's my lucky night.  How long can you stay, Big Stuff?"  
  
"Depends on how the tables go, Ma'am," he said, earning a snicker from behind him and a wink from the lady.  
  
"I'll reserve a suite for you, just in case.  Anything I can do for you and your boys right now?"  
  
"Same requests as last time."  
  
She nodded, flashing her ample breasts in the clinging dress.  "Oldest liquor we can find and best chefs on duty for Iron Chef requests.  And nachos."  
  
Steve smiled.  "Awesome.  Thanks."  
  
Tony burst out in laughter and Antoine elbowed him.  
  
"They're on my tab tonight, maybe, split a hundred five ways?" Steve asked.  
  
Angelia smiled wider.  "Of course.  The chips will be waiting by the time you get to the entry, Stud, but give us five minutes on the drinks."  
  
"I have my own cash, Stevie," Tony hissed.  
  
"Don't ruin this for the rest of us, I'm going to feel bad enough when I lose all that money at the Yahtzee table," Marcus said.  
  
"Yahtzee?" Clint asked.  
  
Steve rolled his eyes.  "Boys, behave.  I have a reputation to maintain.  Tony, if you're really pissed about the money, you can just let me win it back at the poker table."  
  
"I don't let anyone win, Stevie," Tony smirked.  
  
Tony was growing on him, much like Howard did in the beginning.  He went off on tangents about things that didn't make sense outside of his own head but he was eager and curious about everything.  Steve thought he would be a good friend if he let himself have friends.  Steve was working on being one Tony wouldn't regret.    
  
"Okay, team.  We'll meet at the slots in an hour and hit the buffet before we bunker down for the night," Steve said as the security guard passed out their chips.  
  
"I'm sticking with you for the good scotch," Tony said as Clint and Antoine dragged Marcus off in search of Yahtzee.  
  
"I consider my taste in liquor and junk food to be my consolation prize for hibernation," Steve said.  
  
"I have no problem with that, it's reassuring that you have quirks.  Any other person would go batshit if they went through what you have," Tony shrugged.  "I'm actually impressed that you're not squirrelling away cash in your mattress."  
  
Steve did have cash in his mattress but he didn't mention it.  "The world's a different place.  I might be an old man, but I'm capable of change."  A waitress not wearing enough clothes for public interaction brought over a tray of glasses.  "Thanks."  
  
Tony took the extra glass and clinked their rims together.  "Blackjack first, Stevie, let's see if you're as good as everyone says you are."  


* * *

"I can't believe you bet your private plane," Clint said, taking the pot of coffee from Bruce before he could get to his mug.  
  
"I can't believe I lost it, I thought Captain America was supposed to be all honest and upstanding," Tony groaned.  
  
"I don't want his plane," Steve told Bruce when he raised an eyebrow in his direction.  "It was just a game."  
  
Clint snorted after a generous swallow of coffee.  "Dude, you don't play poker like it's a game."  
  
"It was war," Tony nodded.  
  
"I puffed up my bank account, paid Horace for leaving the lease early and paid back your ex-girlfriend for all that art she put in my room.  So, really, I got the plane for Pepper," Steve said.  
  
"Oh, God, please don't tell Pepper how much money I lost, she'll break up with me all over again," Tony groaned.  
  
Electricity surged through his body, his knees giving a moment before his lungs switched back on and allowed him a breath and a flinch like a bucking horse that slammed his attacker to the floor in front of him.  The woman was on her feet with sparking wrists but he wasn't going to fall for that trick again.  
  
He swung his leg wide but she hopped over his kick effortlessly but left her center open for his fist.  She staggered back but didn't go down.  
  
"Guys - hey, no murder in the house - can we just - "  
  
He tackled her to the floor but she used his momentum to flip him over and zap his neck with both hands.  He couldn't breathe but she was using both hands and left the rest of her body open.  He grabbed her throat with one hand and yanked her off him, tossing her with a crash into the end table.  
  
"NATASHA.  Stay down," Clint snapped in the momentary pause.  
  
"Seriously, cease fire, buddy," Tony said, crouching beside him and blocking his view of the redhead.  "You okay?"  
  
"I hate hitting women," Steve said.  He made the sign of the cross absently and winced when he poked the burns on his neck.  "Am I bleeding?"  
  
Tony smiled and nodded.  "Yep, she kicked your ass."  
  
"I think he broke my ribs," Natasha groaned from across the room.  "I want a rematch."  
  
Steve tried to focus and Tony grabbed his chin and shook his face gently.  "What the hell is that about?"  
  
"Our friendly little spider got tetchy when Barton started shacking up with you," Tony said as Bruce took over poking him for injuries.  
  
"She's not friendly," Steve muttered.  
  
Clint walked over, dragging the redhead behind him sullenly.  "Stevie, this is Natasha.  She's my closest friend and I trust her with my life.  She is very sorry for trying to kill you."  
  
Steve narrowed his eyes at her but Clint continued, turning to her.  "Nat, this is Steve Rogers..."  
  
She gasped openly.  "Shit, Coulson's going to have fucking kittens."  
  
"Phil's alive?" Tony interrupted.  
  
"SHIELD's made of lies, of course he is," she replied absently.  "Are you really - "  
  
"I'm not paying for that," he added, motioning to the broken furniture.  "She started it."  His phone buzzed and he pushed himself to his feet but leaned against the wall before he answered it.  
  
 _"Stevie?  Uh, I kind of, fell into a mess."_  
  
He barely recognized Peter's soft, breathless voice.  "Where are you?"  
  
" _A roof.  Think.  Fight's over.  That Richards guy needs to take care of his own shit.  Concussion, maybe.  Went down hard.  Can't shoot web, so..."_  
  
"What is it, Stevie?" Tony asked.  
  
"Send me your GPS and I'll come get you."  He covered the phone with his hand.  "I need to go pick up a friend."  
  
 _"It's high, I don't know if you can get up here."_  
  
Steve looked at Tony again.  "Actually, I need you to go pick up a friend."  
  
"What friend?" Tony asked but he was always wearing the Iron Man bracelets, at least as long as Steve had known him.  
  
His eyes flicked to Natasha, the newest wild card.  She held up her hands.  "I'm still an agent of SHIELD but that doesn't mean I trust them blindingly.  I'm here for Clint, I don't see or hear anything related to work right now.  Besides, Tony wouldn't have let me in the building if he thought I was on the job."  
  
Steve accepted her words with a nod and turned back to Tony.  "He thinks he has a concussion.  If he's calling me for help then it's probably worse than that."  
  
"Do you want me to take him to the hospital?" Tony asked as the suit assembled around him.  It was always going to be unbelievable to watch.  
  
"No," Steve said immediately.  "I think he heals faster, his DNA's...different.  He's not a mutant, and we've never gotten into the logistics of it but the cops..."  
  
The mask on the Iron Man suit slid up.  "Spiderman?  Of course you're bros with Spiderman."  He flipped him off and stepped out of the helpfully open window and disappeared.  
  
"You think he'll let me take some DNA?" Bruce asked after a long moment.  
  
Steve rolled his eyes.  "You need a hobby."  
  
"You need updated training.  Spar, next Monday at eight, my ribs should be healed enough by then," Natasha stated flatly.  
  
Steve snorted and probed at the burns on his neck.  He didn't want to put ice on them.  
  
"Everybody to the med bay, I've got some ointment for those and some icepacks for you, Romanov," Bruce snickered.  


* * *

"He's a kid, you didn't tell me he was a kid - did you know he was a kid?" Tony asked when he carefully dropped Peter to the floor on shaky legs and stepped back for the suit to release him.  
  
"You narc'd me out," Peter mumbled through glazed eyes as Steve steadied him with a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"No hospitals, no cops and no SHIELD.  I have to work with the resources I have, buddy.  What happened?"  He helped him off the balcony onto the medical floor and over to the gurney where Bruce was waiting with a penlight and handheld scanner.  Tony had the best toys.  
  
"You'll have to ask Richards about that, it was the Four's thing.  But the robots, fucking ' _bots_ , were loose in the streets.  They flipped a minivan full of kids.  I got them clear but I lost my web and that's my main defense.  I don't know kung fu," he murmured.  "That's bright, yo, back off."  
  
Bruce avoided his annoyed swats and continued his scanning.  "Definitely a concussion, signs of fractures on both wrists, we'll splint them for now.  Cap says you have a healing factor, kid, how's that work?"  
  
"Cuts heal in a couple of hours, takes a couple of days for stabs.  Broken bones take about a week.  I can usually take some Nyquil as soon as I get home and be mobile in the morning.  But I fell really far," Peter admitted, his tone betraying his age.  
  
"Try not to move, I'll be right back.  Stevie, a word?" Bruce frowned at him and Steve followed him to the edge of the room where his new friends gathered around him.  
  
"How old is he?"  
  
"Can he even drive a car legally because I know he can't vote."  
  
"You can't seriously be okay with a child playing vigilante - "  
  
"HEY," Steve said sternly, silencing the assorted hisses of protest.  "This is not up for discussion.  I was working by the time I was twelve, living on my own at sixteen - and you and Bruce were already on your second or third degrees by this time.  I know you were on the road and I doubt the Russians waited until you were a legal adult before they snagged you," he said, pointing at Tony, Bruce, Clint and Natasha in turn.  "We do what we have to do.  Peter's competent and skilled enough to take care of himself and his business, even if he could use some lessons in staying off the police scanners."  
  
Peter flipped him the bird from the gurney.  
  
"He has people to take care of and he knows when to ask for help or else he'd still be bleeding out on that rooftop," Steve added quietly.  
  
"I probably would have called a little earlier if I knew you had this much backup.  Somebody needs to talk to that Richards guy," Peter mumbled.  
  
Natasha stepped over to the gurney and scanned Peter with appraising eyes before nodding slightly.  "We'll have to get you some tech.  Something to disguise your face if someone unmasks you, and some fingerprint pads."  
  
"I'll update your web shooters, make them less breakable," Tony sighed.  "And a panic button for things like tonight."  
  
"And I know Richards from grad school, I'll call him up tomorrow," Bruce said.  
  
Steve walked over and squeezed Peter's shoulder.  "I alibi'd you for the night and there's a guest room on my floor with your name on it.  I'm sorry for bringing attention down on you."  
  
Peter sighed.  "Might not be so bad to have backup sometimes."  
  
He hid his relief and Clint clapped him on the back.  "I'm all about bringing in more good guys, Stevie, but let's try to keep them over eighteen, okay?  I'm going to give him a crash course on self-defense in high places and we're all going to fill you in on child labor laws."  


* * *


	3. Chapter 3

Steve didn't know much about the Fantastic Four despite their prevalence on tabloid covers with Tony and he definitely didn't expect the massiveness of The Thing when he met them at the elevator.  
  
"Hey, Ben, long time no see," Bruce said easily.  
  
Ben squinted his eyes as much as he could being made out of rock.  "Bruce, good to see you.  Who's your friend?"  
  
Steve heard raised voices further inside the apartment but it was muffled and he couldn't make out the words.  They must have epic soundproofing.  "Stevie Buchanan," he introduced himself, offering his hand to shake.  He made sure to use his strongest grip on the stone fingers.  
  
"Huh.  Should I be glad to meet'cha?"  
  
"You should," Bruce answered.  "Is Reed around?"  
  
Ben grunted.  "Arguing with Johnny upstairs again.  You look a lot like the kid, are you related to Sue or - "  
  
"He's Captain America, been stuck in a glacier a few decades.  He's staying at the Tower now," Bruce said, abandoning him with The Thing and going to a chalkboard filled with equations across the room.  
  
"Huh.  Oh, Buchanan, do you know Alicia?" Ben asked after a beat.  
  
Steve was disappointed that Bruce had outed his semi-secret identity but relieved that Ben latched onto his alias.  "Alicia, yeah, she's one of Eboni's friends.  They get their hair done at the same salon."  
  
Ben's stone face broke into a grin.  "Yeah, I've heard about you - Stevie, right.  Good guy, she said you helped hold off some of those aliens from a few weeks back.  Didn't mention you were Captain America."  
  
"It's not supposed to be common knowledge.  I'm not ready to go back on the grid yet until I know all the threats.  SHIELD, the armed forces, even the new branches, aren't really a fit for me," Steve said.  
  
"Shit, if you know Gertie Dugan, you must be the real thing.  Come in and sit down, Reed's going to want to talk to you."  
  
Steve relaxed, slightly.  "I live with Tony and Bruce, I can do without science experiments today.  I asked Bruce to get me a meeting with your guys."  
  
Ben sat down on a reinforced couch and motioned for him to sit down.  Bruce had his glasses on now, muttering math to himself.  Steve was on his own.  "I don't know about the rest of the guys, but I'd be happy to tag you in and trade out Johnny," Ben muttered.  
  
He smiled.  "I'll keep that in mind and I'd love to spar with you sometime.  I haven't had the pleasure of meeting Bruce's alter ego but I could use the practice with someone I don't have to pull punches with."  
  
Ben smiled brightly.  He was expressive despite his 'differences'.  "I'm definitely down for that."  
  
"Do it at the Tower, I want to monitor both your stats when that happens," Bruce called from across the room.  
  
Steve rolled his eyes and Ben chuckled.  "Yeah, we'll discuss that away from scientists later.  Why did you want to meet with us?"  
  
He leaned forward and held up his phone with a photo of Spiderman and his splinted wrists.  He covered the middle finger he was holding up with his thumb.  "Know this guy?"  
  
"Spiderman, sure, he gets a bad rap from the cops," Ben nodded.  "What happened to him?"  
  
"He got hurt last night saving a family from some robots.  He's a buddy of mine and he called for a pickup."  
  
Ben was visibly surprised.  "Shit, I didn't even know he was nearby."  
  
Steve nodded, putting his phone away.  "Exactly.  I'm new to all this, hell, everything's new to me.  But those aliens, that battle was bigger than all of us."  
  
"We weren't in town, we didn't get here until it was over," Ben said quietly.  
  
"I didn't know any of the details, I didn't need to - but I still had a part to play.  Spiderman, me and my friends, we don't need to know all your business to help.  Spiderman was doing your cleanup, but if he'd known that you had stuff going on - he could have had that family out of the line of fire before he got hurt," Steve said.  
  
Ben hummed under his breath.  "I get it.  But we had the NYPD backing us up."  
  
"That's great, but you and I both know that sometimes 'normal' people can't help as much as we need with the enemies we fight.  The bots that got Spiderman took out three police cruisers before they got to the minivan.  I'm not necessarily offering you backup, I'm asking for a heads-up.  A courtesy call.  I'd like to keep my friends from going to Times Square if you're smashing robots everywhere," Steve said.  
  
Ben considered it.  "It sounds reasonable.  We'll have to talk to Reed and Sue about it.  So Spiderman's in on the deal?"  
  
"I've been emailing Xavier for a meeting, too, but I need to do more research into the whole mutant thing," Steve said.  
  
"I know Hank McCoy, you should've said something," Bruce said.  
  
He sighed.  "One, I don't know who that is and two, how do you know all these people?"  
  
"Science," Bruce shrugged.  
  
"McCoy's the Beast.  He doesn't like to spar," Ben said.  
  
Steve considered what he'd read.  "I think I could take him."  
  


* * *

  
  
Steve held Xavier's gaze and didn't flinch when he felt the man probing inside his head.  "That's very impolite."  
  
"I apologize but your story's slightly unbelievable and I don't often say that," the man replied.  "How can I help you, Captain?"  
  
"There's a lot more people with powers around than I remember from my first life," Steve said.  "A lot of good people but twice as many bad.  It seems to me that I should open communication with the good."  
  
"We can handle our own battles," Xavier said after a beat.  
  
Steve nodded.  "I know that, and my friends and I wouldn't be able to handle your type of fights.  Sometimes you need your whole team focused on your enemies but if we knew something was going down, we could work on evac and civilians and stay out of your line of fire.  It doesn't help when some of us are wanted by crazed government agencies either."  
  
Xavier's eyes went distant.  "Some of my students were in New York when the aliens invaded.  We were dealing with something in South America."  
  
"I'm not public yet and that's thanks to my friends who covered my back.  I didn't get involved in the main event, but I put out the brush fires to keep the casualties down," Steve said.  "Spiderman got tangled up in one of the Four's fights and he was hurt but they didn't even know he was involved until afterwards.  He saved a family of six."  
  
"That is concerning.  What do you suggest?" Xavier asked, leaning back in his wheelchair, thoughtful.  
  
Steve pulled out a business card.  "Text us.  Longitude and latitude if you have it because we don't want to have to trace the phones.  If you need a science consult or intel, or if you see something we need to know about - text us.  Sometimes we run into mutants that need help we don't have."  
  
Xavier nodded, skimming his fingers over the number.  "It's a good idea.  The threats are only going to get bigger, there's bound to be overlap."  
  
"Tony's handling the phone details so the messages will be scrambled and unscrambled before anyone gets it.  I'm usually available by phone or email but I'm recently employed so who knows how that's going to work."  He hesitated.  "I'd also like to ask you for another favor."  
  
The man raised an eyebrow.  
  
"As uncomfortable as I am with your telepathy, I'd like to learn more about the history of mutant rights," Steve said.  
  
Xavier smiled, kindly.  "Of course, if you'd be willing to speak with some of our history classes.  And I don't normally get into people's minds without good reason."  
  
"That's comforting," Steve replied.  "I think.  Also, I'm pretty sure I know Logan from the war, my war.  Is that something I should be worried about?"  
  
Xavier folded his hands.  "No.  Logan doesn't remember a lot of his past, he never mentioned serving with Captain America so it's possible he doesn't remember.  It's not his fault, he's been mentally manipulated several times by various evil groups over the years and considering his healing powers; the damage to his mind and memories was severe."  
  
"Noted.  I didn't know him well, but I considered him a friend," Steve nodded.  At least he knew he wasn't imagining the man's face from his past.  
  
"I'll introduce you, he probably has a lot of questions for you as well," Xavier smiled.  
  


* * *

  
  
Steve had made a lot of new friends in the past few weeks at the Tower but Thor was the first that he'd bonded with immediately.  The others took a few hours, or meetings at least, but Thor was curious and genuine in a way that made him feel like a kindred spirit.  
  
The Warriors Three reminded him of the Commandos and the Lady Sif, well, he couldn't think about the Lady Sif without blushing.  She was beautiful and brave and everything about her fogged his vision.  But he had been well-versed in the 'bro code' and he wouldn't dare disrespect her even accidentally.  
  
They had been drinking for hours and Thor put the Warriors to work escorting the drunken 'Midgardians' to their respective rooms while Steve attempted to clean up enough for people to be able to sit down when they staggered out in the morning.  
  
"Steven, come share a final drink with me before I retire," Thor said, taking the trash bag from him and steering him back to the dining room table where the dribbling keg of alien mead was still sloshing.  
  
"Everyone seemed to have a good time, not bad for my first dinner party," Steve said.  
  
Thor laughed as he passed him a brimming mug.  "Indeed, I hope to be invited to more such gatherings.  I have been dispatched by the Lady Sif."  
  
"Oh?"  He didn't choke on his swallow but it was a near thing.  
  
"Jane and Darcy have discouraged her interest, they seem to think of you as a 'baby lamb' but I see no correlation in my studies of the Midgardian species."  Thor scrutinized him.  "Though I am told you have very soft hair."  
  
"Oh.  Um, why did she dispatch you?" Steve asked.  
  
"She wishes to court you.  We are unsure of the proper rituals, they seem to vary according to my ongoing research," Thor said thoughtfully.  "I was sent to inquire of your interest."  
  
Steve blushed all over, not needing the heat switched on to stay warm.  "Thor, she's really beautiful.  She's way out of my league.  I'm just a guy from Brooklyn and she's...a goddess."  
  
"Sif has never acted her rank.  She has many sisters who wear their pride on their crowns but she wears hers on her sword.  Our lineages hold no meaning here and she is impressed by your stories of valor and triumph over tragedy."  Thor hesitated.  "She has not expressed interest in a suitor for many years, settling for frivolous affairs, so her attraction cannot be disregarded."  
  
"She...oh.  I never thought - are you sure?  I'm really bad with women, Thor.  Um.  I haven't had a lot of experience," he admitted in a low voice.  He didn't know if Thor would understand, from his math - the man had been alive for centuries.  
  
"Do not mention that to Sif or she will not release you from her bed until you are fully experienced," Thor remarked after a beat.  "I hope you will return her interest regardless of your own inexperience, Captain."  
  
"I do, return her interest, I mean.  I just didn't expect her to notice me.  Um, are you sure you're not pranking me?"  
  
Thor laughed and raised his mug.  
  


* * *

  
  
Sif was a force of nature, much more intimidating when she focused her full attention on someone.  Steve definitely had her attention considering what Tony called 'a full assault for his virtue' over the following days.  
  
He had never dealt with anyone openly pursuing him.  The one relationship he had involved months of unresolved sexual tension and a single kiss but Sif...she liked him and didn't care who knew about it.  
  
She didn't understand the concept of 'politeness' and her honesty was refreshing and charming.  He was captivated by her before he knew she liked him but he was almost dazed by her presence now.  
  
The fluttering in his chest wasn't from the panic of living in 2013 but from Sif's smile or lilting laugh.  Her feather light touches sent shivers through him and her eyes lit up when he looked at her.  
  
He never had that effect on anyone before and even if he wasn't worth it - he wasn't going to miss out on it this time.  
  
There was only one thing left to do before he made a move.  
  
"All right, Cap, spill it.  You've been dancing around something in all your phone calls this week and if you don't want me to interrogate you at Sunday dinner, you should go ahead and spit it out.  Tell me something good before I start to worry about how you're stirring up a hornet's nest."  
  
Steve took a deep breath but caught sight of Sif reclining on his balcony, her long legs exposed and enticing.  She wore shorts too short to be considered shorts when she visited his suite because of his 'heat sensitivity'.  "I met a girl, Gertie.  No, not a girl, she's definitely not a girl."  
  
Gertie let out a squeal and he had to move the phone away from his ear.  _"About time, Stevie!  Did you remember to use a rubber?"_  
  
"Stop it, it's not just about that," Steve scolded, flushing.  "I really like her but...she's beautiful and smart and too good for someone like me..."  
  
"I'm not going to pep talk you, Cap because you're not stupid.  You wouldn't be telling me about her - and you will be telling me much more about her soon - if you weren't already in over your head."  
  
Steve's attention drifted back to the balcony.  Sif crossed her legs and the quirk of her lips clued him into her knowing that he was watching her.  "I am beyond over my head.  Marcus says I don't have swagger."  
  
Gertie chuckled.  "That's definitely true, but you need a woman that doesn't care about that.  And you shouldn't be listening to Marcus."  
  
He forced his eyes away to a spot on the wall.  "Do you think I can have it?  Have her?  I lost everything once and even with how much I have now, I don't know if..."  
  
"Stop it.  You're not at war anymore, you've done your duty.  You deserve every bit of happiness you can find.  You might be a superhero but you're also a man.  You've got to put yourself first sometimes, Stevie and you've never been happy flying solo.  You're young and even if it's not the life you expected to have after the war, this is the one you've got."  
  
"I thought you weren't going to pep talk me," Steve smiled.  He took another deep breath.  "I'll see you Sunday.  I have to go ask a lady out now."  
  
"Bring her to lunch so I can scare her thoroughly and stop taking advice from Marcus."  
  
He ended the call and squared his shoulders, making the short walk to the balcony.  Sif smiled and he took the seat beside her in one of the cushy chairs.  
  
"You seem pleased from your conversation," she said curiously.  Her eyelashes fluttered when he dared to take her hand.  
  
"I needed a pep talk.  I'm not good with women," he said.  
  
She raised an eyebrow.  "I care nothing about those women.  They are blind."  
  
He didn't let his blush deter him.  "You've been really patient with me and if you like me as much as I like you, then I hope I won't disappoint you.  But...would you like to stay for dinner with me...alone tonight?"  
  
"Why would you disappoint me, Steven?  You are an honorable and enchanting man," Sif replied, lacing their fingers.  "I have worried that you do not return my feelings."  
  
He took a deep breath.  "I don't know how to do this.  I've never been...intimate with anyone before.  I've never had time or the confidence to try.  But I'd like to try...courting you."  
  
Her smile widened and she levered herself out of her seat and onto his lap, straddling him efficiently in a single move.  "If that is truly the cause of your hesitation, then the time for courtship has passed."  
  


* * *

  
  
"Your girlfriend is preening," Pepper whispered, sliding a Starbucks cup toward him as she took the stool beside him.  
  
Steve smiled despite himself when he saw her sitting in the common area between Volstagg and Fandral wearing her hickeys like badges of honor.  "I would never leave marks like that but she said it was 'a tradition of her people'," he whispered.  
  
"Jane uses that excuse, too.  I don't know if I believe it but at least they're sticking to the same story," she laughed softly.  Her eyes drifted to Tony where he was holding a science pow-wow with Bruce and Peter, a new dangerous lab buddy despite Steve's warnings.  "How is he?  No one will give me a straight answer."  
  
"I didn't know him when he was with you.  But I know he misses you madly.  I know he considers you the most important person in his life, even now that you're not here.  I know losing you is his biggest regret."  He didn't meet her eyes.  "I talked to Peggy before I crashed the plane, it's in all the books.  I carried her voice with me through the crash, through the ice, and it was the first thing I remember when I woke up on the fishing boat.  It was selfish.  It haunted her.  They didn't have voicemail back then, but Tony called you and he didn't damn you with a dying proclamation of love, he took the sound of your voice with him into the black without cursing you with his.  You know him better than anyone else and you knew he loved you when you saw the missed call.  He hung up before the beep and I can't explain how much I respect him for that."  
  
"It's still going to haunt me," Pepper murmured.  
  
"I'm new to the whole courting thing," Steve said, ignoring her snicker but relieved that he hadn't upset her yet.  He wasn't meddling, that wasn't his intention but he wasn't blind to their obvious unhappiness apart.  "But I know what it's like to be in love.  And I know what it's like to wake up and lose everything I loved when I died trying to save it.  So I can't tell you that he's okay, but he's getting by and that's all some of us can do.  It took this long for me to look at another woman and not think of Peggy.  Tony's not there yet."  
  
"You're not helping," Pepper sighed.  "You're supposed to help."  
  
"I didn't know Tony before.  I mean, I knew Howard but he's nothing like Howard.  Howard drank, all the time," Steve said quietly.  "I think his mind worked so quickly that he needed it to slow down.  He was never with the same woman twice, he didn't waste time learning their names because he had things to build.  Tony drinks, sure, but not like that.  And I've never seen him look at a woman the way he looks at you.  I hope that Howard loved his mother like that, I hope he learned enough to know how important that was."  
  
"Steven!  The man of stone has arrived with the legendary Waffles of Belgium and we must replenish our energies," Sif announced.  
  
Pepper huffed out a laugh.  "Go, replenish your energies, Stevie."  
  
Steve didn't worry about his accidental meddling when he got the mass text with a _'On vacation no calls'_ followed by _":D"_ from Tony the next morning.  
  
He figured he'd get reamed out later but maybe not for making it worse.  
  


* * *

  
  
Steve had never met Nick Fury but reports of his assassination hit Natasha and Clint hard.  He couldn't get in touch with Antoine at all and he finally understood Peter's description of 'spidey sense' with the itch of foreboding.  
  
Bruce had finally declared him 'fully defrosted and operational' so he should have known it was time for him to go back to work.  But he never considered Gertie as the person that would bring around Captain America's return.  
  
She invited him over and he could tell by the tone of her voice that he should come alone.  So he kissed Sif goodbye, refilled the coffee pot for the groggy scientists and cancelled his morning run with Natasha and Thor.  
  
It was a completely normal day until he got to Gertie's deserted apartment and saw the slumped bloody man waiting where her dining room table used to be.  
  
"Do you know who I am?"  
  
Steve nodded.  "Where's..."  
  
"I know who you are, too.  She wouldn't go to ground if it wasn't absolutely necessary and I wouldn't bring this to a stranger if it wasn't absolutely necessary."  
  
Steve walked over and sat on the wobbly stool that had finally been abandoned.  "I've never heard her mention you."  
  
"Comes with the job.  But I recently found out that I'm not working for the people that I thought I was.  SHIELD is compromised, to the core."  
  
Steve's stomach dropped.  Gertie was gone, thank God, but the idea of anything big enough to send her running was overwhelming.  "Why are you telling me this?"  
  
"Because I don't know who to trust.  But I'm told that I can trust your instincts," Fury said, holding a USB stick in shoddily bandaged fingers.  
  
He took the stick before the man could change his mind.  
  
"If you need another reason, I found these a few hours before I died," Fury said after a long moment.  He held out a chain with a set of dog tags he recognized from his dreams.  "He's the man who killed me."  
  
Steve forgot how to breathe.  
  
 _Bucky_.  
  


* * *

  
  
_"Tony.  I'm about to start some shit and you need to get your house in order."_   
  
_"That sounds ominous, what's the - "_   
  
_"It's too dangerous.  I'm going to need your help but right now you have bigger concerns, this is the only warning I can give but SHIELD is dirty, SI is dirty, the WSC - it's all dirty, Tony.  This is big and it's mine."_   
  
_"Full stop - "_   
  
_"There's no time and I need you on the outside of this.  I need you outside."_   
  
_"Give me something here, Cap, you gotta give me something."_   
  
_"32557038."_   
  


* * *

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 15k of this up already and I realized the update I've been musing over is from a totally different POV. So here's some Tony to chew on until Steve starts talking to me again. (He's obviously as moody as I am when it comes to playing nice with my stories.)

"Where's Natasha?  Do you think she's - " Bruce closed his mouth before he could finish his question.  
  
"She is with Steven," Lady Sif spoke from her unhappy post on the bench by the window.  
  
"What?" Clint asked immediately.  
  
"He is a tactician and he is choosing his steps carefully.  He is very angry," she said, quietly.  
  
Tony tore his eyes away from the images of Bucky Fucking Barnes in an ice coffin and over to her.  Cap had called him first but he didn't know Steve had called Sif, too.  "He told you his plan?"  
  
She frowned.  "No.  The Widow 'texted' me.  I trust that she will make sure he is not blinded by his rage.  The Lady Peggy may have owned his heart, but Bucky is the name he screams in his sleep."  
  
"For fuck's sake, we should be out there on his six - " Clint blurted out but the room was silent when Tony's phone buzzed with the 'superhero hotline' tone.  
  
" _Stand down.  CYA_ ," Tony read aloud.  
  
"Oh shit, Twitter is blowing up - turn on the news, Sif," Pepper nearly burst into the room with Happy on her heels.  
  
"JARVIS," Tony said and the room was filled with holographic screens of assorted news channels.  But it took a moment for him to process what he was seeing.  
  
"Helicarriers - three of them, where the fuck..." Clint muttered.  
  
"They're on arc reactor power, Jesus, I saw the schematics for those but it was supposed to be years before they were functional," Tony realized.  
  
"They're leaking classified documents everywhere - it's streaming, JARVIS are you - " Pepper lowered her phone with a panicked look.  Her hand scrabbled up his arm until he latched onto her fingers.  
  
"I am compiling and processing the feed, Ms. Potts."  
  
"Shhh," Sif said suddenly and tapped the remote until the main TV's volume filled the momentary silence.  
  
" _SHIELD is not what we thought it was, it's been taken over by HYDRA.  Alexander Pierce is their leader.  STRIKE and Insight crews are HYDRA as well.  We don't know how many more, but we know they're in the building, they could be standing right next to you.  They almost have what they want: absolute control.  They shot Nick Fury, and it won't end there.  If you launch those helicarriers today HYDRA will be able to kill anyone that stands in their way, unless we stop them.  I know it's asking a lot.  The price of freedom is high, always has been, and it's a price I'm willing to pay.  And if I'm the only one, then so be it.  But I'm willing to bet I'm not._ "  
  
"Fucking hell, he's starting a war," Tony whispered before all the screens lit up with explosions.  
  
Everyone's phone went off at once and tickers were updating on the top and bottom of all the screens to keep up with the info dump.  
  
"SI is infected as much as SHIELD, Pepper," Tony said, turning to her.  She didn't lower her phone or miss a word, but the understanding was clear in her eyes.  
  
"We already sent the majority of the Tower staff home for a false bomb scare and JARVIS has been scanning the security staff worldwide for double agents," Happy said.  
  
Tony was relieved that Pepper and Happy thought that far ahead after Steve's cryptic warning but it wasn't enough for what was coming.  
  
The emergency tone on his phone buzzed again from a number he didn't recognize.  _"Pork Chop Sandwiches_."  
  
"Get the fuck out of here," Tony muttered to himself.  He didn't have time to question the sender because the helicarriers onscreen erupted into gunfire and started to fall out of the sky.

* * *

  
"Tony."  
  
He dropped the coffeepot with a crash and silenced the booming argument of the Asgardians and Bruce's carefully controlled breathing.  "Where are you?"  
  
Steve's voice was raw.  _Wrong_.  "You got that Hulk-proof cell ready?  I need a safe place to keep a dangerous thing."  
  
"Barnes?" Tony asked immediately.  "The man that tried to kill you, oh, four hours or so ago?"  
  
"Please don't start with me right now, is everyone safe?  'Tasha said everyone was safe..."  
  
"Stop," Tony said.  "My turn.  Where are you?"  
  
"Not sure.  Airplane, something.  I took Maria's phone.  I don't have anywhere to put him, Charles is going to take him but the Tower's the only place ready right now and - fuck."  
  
"Hey.  You've got a fuckton of backup and it's past time you tag us in, Cap.  Let me talk to Maria, or whoever's looking after you - whose airplane are you on?" Tony didn't try to keep the panic out of his voice.  
  
"Is Sif all right?  Is everyone all right?"  
  
"No, we're not all right because you're not here," Tony snapped.  
  
"Rhodey's going to bring Bucky - no - the Winter Soldier to the Tower.  I think they're just flying me around until I stop bleeding but I don't actually know anything," Steve rasped in a softer voice than before.  
  
Tony turned his back on his crowding friends.  He pushed the mention of Rhodey aside for the moment.  "Bleeding.  You're bleeding?"  
  
He hissed when Rhodey's voice filled his ear.  "Tones, it's not a good time right now, where did he get this phone?"  
  
"Tell me everything, Rhodey or I swear to Xenu..."  
  
"It's not a good time.  Is the Tower secure?  Did he tell you who I was bringing?"  
  
Tony sighed.  "We're on standby, now what's wrong with Cap?"  
  
"They pulled a lot of lead out of him.  We're making a few stops, he's a stubborn bastard but if we can get The Winter Soldier out of his line of vision, we think he'll calm down.  Gertie called me in, too late if you ask me, but we got away as clean as any of us could hope for."  
  
"He needs to update the hotline and he needs to be here right now," Tony said.  
  
"He needs to be somewhere safe and there are already too many of you in one place at the Tower."  
  
Tony groaned.  "We're secure, there's no place on the East Coast as secure as we are and Charles Xavier can suck it.  His girl's here, Rhodey.  Bring him home."  
  
"You think his girl can calm him down?  Most people like Stevie but the medics are pretty frustrated."  
  
"Bring him here, Rhodey.  Put him on the phone," he added waving for Sif to take his phone.  
  
Her face was a mix of concern and rage but her eyes flickered with relief when she heard his voice.  
  
"Tony, is he hurt?" Bruce asked.  
  
He nodded but Sif's voice caught his attention.  "I will carve the flesh from the bones of the ones that hurt you..."  Thor gave an approving nod beside her.  "I will not listen to your apologies through a box, Steven, I must see you now.  Thor can bring me - "  
  
"It's not safe," Tony said reluctantly even if his fingers had been twitching for his bracelets since he heard Rhodey's voice.  
  
Sif glared at him darkly but listened intently to whatever Steve was telling her.  "You will listen to Anthony and you will come home now.  You will come home to me."

* * *

  
"Are you okay?" Tony asked Sif when they were both waiting impatiently on the roof while the rest of the temporary refugees prepared the medical floor for incoming.  
  
"I am distressed," she replied after a long moment.  "I am not familiar with standing aside, especially when those I care for are in danger.  I care for Steven.  He is...special."  
  
"He's definitely something.  It drives me crazy that he took this on himself," Tony sighed.  
  
"He thinks he is protecting us.  He has lost many friends, he would never risk the ones he has in this time," Sif said.  She growled out her next words.  "I do not need his protection and while his intentions flatter me as his consort, they insult me as a warrior."  
  
The plane emerged from the clouds, reflectors shifting to reveal the jet as it hovered and landed quietly on the hidden landing pad.  
  
They reached the back door together and heard Steve and Rhodey bickering softly as Rhodey hauled the larger man down the ramp.  
  
He was splattered and smeared with blood, crimson patches soaked through his sliced suit.  "Where did you get that suit, is it even bulletproof?" Tony blurted out at the sight.  
  
Sif hid her shock better, hurrying forward and taking half his weight as he limped heavily.  
  
"Two to the thigh and one to the gut.  They got the bullets out but he needs medical attention," Rhodey said.  Sif glared at him sharply before narrowing her gaze at Steve.  
  
"Hey guys," Steve said quietly.  Rhodey rolled his eyes and led Tony several steps away.  
  
"I'm not sure what all happened but I have to get to Washington.  Natasha was dealing with the press but Maria and I need to be there," Rhodes said.  "We dropped Barnes at Xavier's already, that's what took so long."  
  
"I thought you were bringing him here," Tony said.  
  
Rhodey nodded at Steve, slumped in Sif's arms now as he murmured into her neck.  "His blood pressure didn't level out until we got the other guy off the plane and into non-government hands.  I think Xavier got into his head."  
  
"Shit, no telling what he saw in there but I guess all the dirty secrets are out in the open."  
  
"Don't misunderstand, Steve let him into his head voluntarily.  He is _messed up_ over Barnes.  You probably don't want to let his girl watch the video too closely because it's not pretty.  I haven't let Gertie talk to him because she's so worried," Rhodey said under his breath.  
  
"They're grounding air traffic, make sure you stay out of the sky as much as possible until they get a handle on it.  The stock market just crashed," Maria announced from the top of the ramp.  "Rhodey?"  
  
"Coming," Rhodey said, clamping his hand on Tony's shoulder.  "I'll call you when I get the lowdown, look after that kid, okay?"  
  
"Yeah, on it," Tony promised.  Sif had Steve's face between her hands, kissing his forehead gently.  
  
"He did a good thing, but it was a big thing," Rhodey said.  
  
"This is bigger than big."  
  
"You must rest, I will restrain you myself if you continue being a petulant child," Sif warned.  
  
Tony gave Rhodey a genuine hug and turned to take Steve's free arm across his shoulders and managed not to grunt under the weight.  "You are a stubborn asshole, Stevie."  
  
"There were millions of targets, too many, it's…so much and I didn't have time," Steve mumbled.  He leaned his head on Tony's shoulder and Sif's face twisted in worry that was out of place on her normally stoic face.  "I couldn't…you guys are too important and I need you now.  I need to make calls, I need…"  
  
"You need to rest, your mind is clouded and you are not thinking clearly," Sif said, stabbing at the elevator button with a bloody finger.  God, he was still bleeding a lot.  Too much.  
  
"You're right.  I'm not.  Fuck, I messed up so bad…I just…"  
  
Tony put his hand on the back of his neck.  "Hey.  We're old hand at cleaning up messes.  Let us take a turn."  There was nothing but the sound of blood dripping from Steve's fingertips to break the following silence until the doors opened on the medical floor.

* * *

  
"He's out, finally.  I don't know how he was even conscious considering how much blood he lost," Bruce said, stripping out of his latex gloves as he joined the rapidly filling lounge.  
  
"Is he okay?" Peter asked before the rest of the room could speak up.  
  
"He'll be okay, his healing already kicked in and with the transfusions, he's on the mend," Bruce said.  "He made his phone calls and between Charles and Sif, he's actually resting.  He'll hopefully sleep long enough to be more functional when he comes out of it."  
  
"He needs to rest to heal and God knows we have enough to keep us busy," Tony said.  "Is everyone still buttoned down?  Roll call."  
  
"Yeah, Cap asked for that, too," Bruce said.  
  
"I'm on it," Clint said.  "Pete's here, his aunt's safe on the cruise with Gertie and the rest of the Dugan clan.  Johnny's napping in Steve's bed because he's on a break and the rest of his crew is working with the NYPD.  The Mutants are running damage control where they can and handling Barnes."  
  
"Barnes," Thor frowned.  
  
"You have blinders on when it comes to your brother and Barnes is the closest thing he has to family.  He's going to do anything and everything he can to save him," Clint pointed out.  
  
"Including letting the guy shoot and beat the hell out of him," Bruce muttered.  "I don't know much about Barnes, but Cap's…he's wrecked."  
  
"It's been decades since he was in combat, not counting the aliens," Tony sighed.  
  
Natasha stepped into the room with healing stitches on most of her exposed skin but with impeccably groomed hair and makeup.  Most of the room glared at her but she only sighed.  "I'm not going to apologize and I'm too tired to argue."  
  
Tony decided to pull his personal growth out of his ass and stepped over to give her a wary bro-hug, careful not to touch her soft parts and risk castration.  "Are you all right?"  
  
"Fuck no, SHIELD - it was my life, it gave me purpose and they're as evil as the people they saved me from," she hissed, brushing off his hug after a telling pause of subtle appreciation.  
  
"Amen.  Do you think Fury knew?  Do you think that's why they killed him?" Clint asked, kicking a chair in Natasha's general direction as an invitation to sit.  
  
Natasha's eyes flicked to the small window into the medical room and Tony bit back a curse at the sight of the allegedly dead director flipping through Steve's medical chart.  "Gertie sent him to Cap when he showed up looking for asylum.  He didn't trust me," she clipped.  
  
"Do you trust him now?" Bruce asked.  
  
"I trust that he's going to go after HYDRA with guns blazing.  SHIELD was his life much longer, generations.  He's going underground, and yes, he's officially dead," Natasha replied.  
  
Tony turned his attention back to the room but Fury was gone.  "What does he want with Stevie?"  
  
"He wants him to go underground with him, but Cap's going public.  We've got to get him a PR rep as soon as the outside world reboots from DC," Natasha said flatly, finally taking the seat beside Clint and leaning against his shoulder when he draped his arm around her.  
  
"Stevie wouldn't leave - " Peter started.  
  
"As if Sif would let him slip out of her greedy little fingers," Natasha muttered.  
  
Everyone turned to look at her.  
  
"Fuck all of you," she sighed, folding her feet underneath her and settling against Clint's solid support and closing her eyes.  "Cap's not a spy, he's the worst liar I've ever met.  He needs a publicist."

* * *

   
"I hate hospitals.  I hate needles and IVs and paper gowns," Steve said, stepping into the penthouse in his softest sweatpants, two sweatshirts and a blanket bundled around him.  
  
Tony wondered if his body would shut down instinctively in reaction to losing Barnes again.  
  
"Is the Hulk about to fuck up my elevator to drag you back down there?" Tony asked.  
  
"I really hope not," Steve replied.  "I'm going to commandeer your couch for a little while, is that okay?"  
  
"Shut up and sit down," Tony snorted.  "Where's your handler?"  
  
"Sif is resting, she knows where I am.  She says she didn't sleep much while I was gone.  Everything's such a mess..." Steve replied.    
  
Tony hummed his agreement.  "Your friends are still here."  
  
"I know.  Thank God, they - did you see the target list?  They were going to kill millions of people and..."  
  
Tony took a deep breath.  "And then there's Bucky."  
  
Steve's eyes snapped to him.  "Has Charles..."  
  
"Nope, Xavier's not talking to anyone and believe me, we've all called him," Tony replied.  
  
"He won't tell me anything either."  
  
Tony leaned forward and held his gaze.  "Personal growth, Cap.  Tell me about Barnes, tell me why you're in pieces.  I get the whole saving the world and taking down HYDRA, but I don't get Barnes.  You would have let him kill you - you - "  
  
"It's Bucky," Steve whispered brokenly.  "He...I saved him once and I watched him - let him - die.  I can't - I can't do it again, I have to - I have to do whatever I can to fix this - Bucky's the only reason I'm alive, he's the only family I ever had - that I ever will have - "  
  
Tony caught Steve's wrists and squeezed until he took a breath.  
  
"I crashed a plane eleven months ago, Tony.  There's no one alive, not even Gertie, that I've known a whole year.  I've known Bucky my whole life..."  Steve shuddered but didn't pull away from his grasp.  "I have to try.  Even if it kills me, I have to help him."  
  
"And if you can't?  Have you thought about the chance that he's beyond help?" Tony asked, finally trusting that he wasn't going to hyperventilate and releasing his grip.  
  
Steve shuddered again.  "If Charles can find any of Bucky left inside the Winter Soldier, I'm not even sure I can face him.  I did this to him, there's no way around it, this is my fault.  I deserved every hit, every bullet, I deserve it - but I won't let him suffer for my choices again.  I won't - I have to help him.  I left him, I left him to die.  I can't do that again."  
  
"I've heard that you don't lie, Stevie, but there are a whole lot of lies in that little spiel," Tony said.  
  
"I've just been coasting around, making a life here and he's been having his soul scraped out piece by piece.  70 years of hell, that's on me," Steve whispered.  
  
Tony sighed.  "Look, nothing I say is going to make you feel better right now because you're talking out of your ass.  None of that was your fault but I'm not the one that's going to convince you, your girl or Banner will have to take care of that for me."  He leaned back and hoped his posture would inspire Steve to unwind a tick, at least.  
  
"Dad wasn't a soldier," Tony hesitated, but he definitely had Steve's attention with the name drop.  "He probably never bothered learning a soldier's name before you.  He cared about winning the war - the men on the front lines, hell, people in general - they were numbers to him.  Casualties versus how many miles gained.  Bucky died and you crashed a plane carrying a nuclear weapon.  You died and Dad built a nuclear weapon and blew up a country.  Mom was shiny and fit into the equation he wrote himself, and I fit into it, too.  But at the end of the day, I was a kid, a statistic, never 'Tony'.  You didn't fit," he steadied, pointing at Stevie.  "He could never turn you into math, no matter how hard he tried so he had to put you in a different equation.  Friend.  You were his friend, probably the only one he ever had.  I think that's why I hated him so much, because he could never process me and Mom as 'family'."  
  
Steve listened silently to his accidental tangent and Tony tried to bring it back around.  
  
He leaned forward.  "I get that Bucky is family to you, he's not a machine or a number or anything you can put into a different box, but you have to understand that the Winter Soldier is not Bucky Barnes.  He's a HYDRA assassin, an enemy - not your friend."  
  
"I know that, Tony, but - "  
  
"You have to step back and think, Stevie.  You are too close to this.  Leaving him with Xavier was a decent call, I'll grant that, but you cannot jump into this without getting yourself together.  And I don't just mean the physical parts - you have to accept that the Winter Soldier is not Bucky Barnes.  Not yet, probably not ever, but definitely not yet," Tony said finally.  
  
"So what am I supposed to do?" Steve asked miserably.  
  
"Heal, kiss your girlfriend and go through these thousands of leaked documents with your friends.  Let Xavier handle the Winter Soldier - "  
  
"Bucky," Steve corrected.  
  
Tony could tell getting Steve to stand down wouldn't be as easy as he'd hoped.  



End file.
